Encounters
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: AU. The Earth spun slowly through the void of space, and the alien prince watched it with hungry eyes from the interior of his ship. Earth was to be his.
1. Chapter 1

_Title:_ Encounters

_Author:_ Neko-chan

_Fandom:_ Kuroshitsuji/Kuroshitsuji II

_Pairing:_ Ciel/Alois

_Rating:_ T

_Warnings:_ Alois and Alois' potty mouth

_Summary:_ [AU] - The Earth spun slowly through the void of space, and the alien prince watched it with hungry eyes from the interior of his ship. Earth was to be his.

_Author's Note:_ Done for the "Alternate Universe" challenge in this week's BlackButler(dot)net Thursday Crack Ficlets. This one was actually rather difficult for me because there were soooo many options to go with and all of them sounded fun. Eventually, though, I came to a decision~ Torn and considering what AU I wanted to play around with, the fic's opening image came suddenly and so... I made them aliens. OTL

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**Encounters**

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Earth stretched out beneath the ship, a spinning sphere of blue and white that slipped slowly through the oblivion of space—there were shades of brown and green where there was land, though the sapphire gradients still overtook so much of the planet. It was a stark contrast to Ciel's own home, and the red-eyed prince tilted his head as he continued to look down upon the planet, this planet that was to be his to oversee in his father's stead.

"There's so much water," he mused aloud, reaching up to splay his fingers against the forcefield that kept the emptiness of space at bay; the barrier was deceptively fragile though nothing could actually be further from the truth. "It almost seems like such a waste. The people here must be weak to have to rely on water for survival—not like our people on Cerberus. This should be an easy enough assignment from Father."

The bodyguard at Ciel's back snorted softly, and the boy glanced over to scowl at the servant. Sebastian had been with him since he had been born, and the servant oftentimes believed that that meant that he was entitled to certain allowances—whether or not that was actually true.

"_What?_" the prince finally snapped out when the other didn't comment further aside from that quiet sound of amusement.

Sebastian smirked and gave a slight shrug. "Creatures who are told that they are to be conquered oftentimes put up a greater fight than you would anticipate. The thought of bondage is anathema to many—and I believe that this will continue to be such a case on this planet, my Lord."

Ciel's lips pursed at that as he fell silent to be left with his own thoughts, the red of his eyes deepening and shifting to a muted glow as his power pulsed through the ship that he commanded. Though Sebastian had an excellent point—at times, Sebastian seem to be _only_ good for excellent points, though usually spoken in an sarcastically acidic tone—Ciel knew that _he_ would be right in the end: the weak bowed down and the strong continued on; it was the way of the universe, and he had seen it repeated many times before. What was once lost could never be recovered, and freedom was amongst those things.

His power flared brighter, stronger, and a small smile finally curved its way over his mouth. At this assignment's conclusion, he would be proven right or wrong—either option didn't really matter because it was _the game_ that he was looking forward to most: finding this planet's weakness and exploiting it as thoroughly as possible to make its people bow their heads in willing defeat with the knowledge that they were now one planet of many that comprised of Ciel's father's Empire.

**XXX**

"No. You can't bloody make me," Alois said as he stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest, glancing away with a prim little sniff and indolently crossed legs to mirror his arms' gesture to let his mother know that he was putting his foot down and absolutely refused to agree to this fucking stupid plan.

"Darling, your father already agreed with the Queen. You _must_ do this. Please," his mother said in answer, spreading her hands wide to beseech her oldest son. Alois had always been intractable—a wild child that still somehow managed to flourish in the privileged society that he and his family walked through due to the fact that Alois and Luka's father was Prime Minister of the U.K. Decorum never mattered to the blonde, and etiquette lessons were blatantly ignored as the boy would purposefully go ahead and do the complete opposite of what the tutors advised.

"_No_," the blonde repeated in answer, mouth curling into a snarl as his mother refused to listen to his _own _refusal. "I have a fucking brain, too, and I can see that this idea is a _stupid_ one. What? You're hoping to charm the visiting E.T.s in the hopes that they'll leave Britain alone? Fuck that shit. They're here to conquer and they have superior weapons so obviously they're gonna win. And yet you think that _I_ should be the one to show the prince of the Reptilians around because _I'm_ the one _closest to his age_? You're all mental, and the bloody Queen has gone senile in her old age."

Frustrated with her son's insubordination over an issue that would determine Britain's fate, Alois' mother lost her temper with her intractable son and slapped him. The boy's eyes widened in shock, and he reached up to cup a hand over his reddening cheek. It fucking _hurt_, and it was his _mother_ who had hurt him in such a way. Suddenly, though, Alois' eyes narrowed in answer and he struck out in return, hitting back with more force—certainly enough to send his mother falling to the floor, crying out softly at the pain of the strike.

"_Don't_ do that again," the blonde hissed, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. There had always been something… off… about her oldest child, and it was moments like this that made that sense of off kilter-ness that much more apparent. Frightened of the violence that was brewing just beneath the surface—just only barely restrained for the moment, Alois' mother lowered her eyes in submission and didn't protest when the boy stalked out of the room.

There was nothing that they would be able to threaten him with, nothing that they would be able to bribe him with that would make him agree to play nice with the E.T.s—and now that he knew that they wanted him to fucking _charm_ the prince of the aliens... _like hell_ would he ever do it. They could find some other kid to be the E.T.'s playmate. He wasn't a fucking babysitter.

Giving a shudder of disgust, Alois slammed the front door behind him as he headed out to blow off some steam in London for a bit; none of the servants bothered to stop him, not after what he had done to Hannah, and it was safer this way—Alois would work the dangerous mood through his system and then return back to the townhouse as prickly as ever, but still much less violent.

Stretching his arms wide, the blonde disappeared into the slums of the city that he knew and understood and could travel instinctively even if blindfolded; this was his territory, and this was a side of humanity that the aliens would never stoop down to allow themselves to see—which kept it safe and Alois' own.

**XXX**

The still-present aristocrats and the men and women who filled the higher, crucial roles within the government lined themselves up on either side of the walkway in the throne room within Buckingham Palace. The gilt from gold gleamed over many surfaces, dark wood providing an elegant accent to the shine of the precious, expensive metal, and red paneling and wall curtains reminded Alois of so much blood.

The boy stifled a yawn, bored by the excessive amount of proceedings, and spent more time inspecting the chandelier above his head than paying attention to the proclamations and hopes for mutual peace that one government stooge after another spouted out. It was pointless, anyway, because anyone who knew anything about history could already tell everyone else in the room how _this_ meeting would end: with their own defeat.

And yet... They were all so incredibly stupid, so bloody blind as to not see the easy solution that had come to the blonde as he had made his way through the seedy parts of _his_ city. It was an elegant solution, a neat one—and, by going through with it, he'd end up solving the entire world's problems.

It seemed like forever and a day until the speeches finally ended, and eerie, ethereal music began to play as the doors to the throne room opened. The prince and his apparent manservant—Alois thought that he'd give a decent run in competing with the various fops in the room—began to make their way down the aisle to head towards the waiting Queen and her family.

The alien prince was shorter than he had expected.

With gray-black hair that contrasted as starkly as day and night with his ivory skin, the shade of the skin much too pale to ever be considered human, Alois decided that the other looked like he'd be more at home in a dress than the black outfit that the prince was currently wearing. Despite the fact that the boy (would he be considered a _boy _if he wasn't even human; what if he was, like, a trillion years old in actuality?) looked to be just a year younger than him, the prince only came up to Alois' shoulder—even _with_ those sissy heeled boots. Red-tinted eyes completed the ensemble, the color almost seeming to gleam faintly, and Alois had to fight off the feeling of being intrigued.

Just a _little_ bit intrigued, though.

Before the alien prince and his bodyguard could walk past Alois and his family, the blonde smirked and stepped forward to block their way. "Yo," the human said in greeting, to which the other boy just quirked an eyebrow in idle inquiry. Alois couldn't stop his smirk from deepening and, furthermore, didn't see a reason to do so, anyway. Instead, he tugged off the glove that he had been wearing.

And slapped the alien prince with it.

The people in the throne room gasped with horror at the gesture, hands coming up to cover mouths at the realization that the boy—one of the families that had led Britain for so many years, one of the families that was supposed to help ensure the nation's safety—had just doomed them all with his rash gesture. They were going to die, and with that thought, Alois' mother clutched at her husband's arm, trembling with fear as the air tightened warningly, as with the calm before the storm, within the room, making it hard to breathe. She was afraid and, with that fear, she felt bone-deep _hate_ for her oldest son.

"I challenge you to a duel," the blonde continued on with a smug, complacent smile as he cocked his hip arrogantly to the side. He enjoyed the way that the other's eyes narrowed dangerously, a sudden flare lighting them from within. And the red mark upon the boy's cheek certain offered up more color to his otherwise moonlight-pale skin. "If I win, you have to fucking go away and leave my planet alone, you pansy E.T. prince."

Despite the irritation at the insult paid with the slap, Ciel did have to admit himself distantly interested in the human boy before him. He rubbed absently at his cheek for a moment, then crossed his arms over his chest as Sebastian came up behind him to rest his hands on his charge's shoulders—steadying him, in the way that he always did, and coaxing away the power that had surged with Ciel's anger. "And if I win?" he asked in reply.

Alois shrugged. "I don't fucking care. Whatever you want." It wasn't as if the alien would win, after all. With a race that was so technologically advanced, they must have long ago forgotten how to fight with weapons that forced opponents to face one another on an actual battlefield—not harming one another from a distance as so many wars fought on Earth now tended to lean towards. It dehumanized things, and Alois planned to use Ciel's disadvantage to his own advantage.

Sebastian eyed the blue-eyed human for long moments before dipping his head to murmur into Ciel's ear, hiding the movement of his lips from behind his gloved hand. At the bodyguard's words, Ciel suddenly smiled, the cruel edge tugging at the corners of his mouth as he returned his attention back to Alois when Sebastian straightened fully once more. "I accept," was the only answer that the prince gave.

**XXX**

It wasn't much longer after that acceptance that the two boys faced off, razor-sharp rapiers clutched tightly in their hands. Ciel had glanced at his weapon with a curious look for just a moment when the weapons smith had first handed over the sword, but he finally ended up shrugging and comfortably shifting his grip as he faced off against Alois.

"You're going to lose," the blonde boy mocked quietly, the tip of his sword swaying slightly from side to side; during the voyage to Earth, Ciel had spent many hours watching videos that his people had taken from the humans' television network. He had been intrigued most of all by the videos of the snake that was called a "cobra," and the small movements that Alois' rapier gave reminded the prince strongly of that particular animal. It was a deadly creature, as well, which Ciel thought apt when applied to the blue-eyed boy standing across from him.

"Perhaps you should wait to boast until the duel has finished," Ciel answered in reply, giving a mean smile as Alois opened his mouth to give another taunt. It was that expression that caused Alois' gaze to narrow dangerously, however, the predator that he usually kept so carefully restrained coming to the foreground as it slunk from the chains that typically bound it. As the predator purred low in his belly, Alois' gaze gleamed and his breathing deepened as he settled into the state that was most comfortable for him. And it was with a joyous smile and a bright laugh that Alois lunged forward, the tip of his sword moving to pierce Ciel's side.

The prince flicked his own weapon in a contemptuous gesture, and Alois' rapier slid aside.

It was that movement that caused Alois to pause for just a moment, the blue of his eyes brightening at the extent of the challenge that he realized was truly presented to him in the form of his foreign invader. "Oh, you're _good_," Alois breathed out, giddy at the thought that he could finally have someone to lash out at, to take his anger and aggression out upon—and that very same person would be able to present a _challenge_ to him instead of bowing out when things became too treacherous.

Ciel's reply was said with a little smirk: "You have no idea."

Those were the last words spoken, however, because the rest of the fight was filled with the sounds of rapiers clashing against one another, the scrape of blades sliding against one another as one fought for supremacy over the other, and the quiet huffs of the boys' breaths as one moved and the other followed in a waltz that Alois intended to end in Ciel's death. The blonde's intention's had changed, after all, because Alois had originally challenged Ciel to keep himself from being subjugated: the thought of being conquered was one that he hated; he was not one who would wear the yoke willingly (if at all), and so he had intended to challenge the would-be master to force Ciel to prove his own worth, as well as his own when the duel would end with Alois' victory. The fact that Ciel could actually _fight_, though…

For the first time, Alois had finally found another person who was as dangerous, as predatory as he was—and didn't bother to hide those particular traits. Sure, the kid was elegant and refined in his own terms since the people of Earth had been told that he was a prince—but there was still an elegant sort of violence that spoke volumes: Ciel could be cruel should he chose to be so, and he was unafraid of crushing down opposition when it faced off against him. In that svelte, alien body, Alois found himself coming face-to-face with his own mirror.

And it was _exhilarating_.

Again and again and _again_ their swords met, pushed and made to conquer, and once more broke apart. Alois began to laugh, joy in the challenge at joy at meeting his mirror threading through the eerie sound—and the hellfire that resided within Ciel's gaze shifted from subtle embers to a wildfire intensity. Neither reaction was normal for the other, and Sebastian watched his prince fight with a contented smile and quietly glowing eyes.

He knew what the outcome would be.

When the fight ended, it came with a quick win that most didn't manage to catch: Ciel's sword moved against Alois', shifting his hold to ring the blade down upon the blonde's. The blade of the sword within the blonde's hand shattered to pieces to leave only the hilt pressed to Alois' palm.

He was breathing heavily, sweat trailing down his cheek to drip drop by drop down the edge of his jawline. Ciel's cruel little smile deepened at that particular sight, the knowledge that he had defeated this boy who had oh-so arrogantly challenged him before the people that the alien prince had come to conquer in his father's name, and he rested the tip of the blade at the hollow of Alois' throat.

"I win," he stated simply, eyes still glowing faintly like will o' the wisps.

"Fine. But what do you bloody want—since you didn't bother to mention it in the beginning," Alois commented sulkily in reply, shoving hair away from his face as he glared in annoyance at the smaller boy. He hadn't expected Ciel to win—truly, he hadn't—but it seemed as if the darker-edged mirror had surprises that Alois hadn't been able to anticipate. It wasn't fair but, then again, Alois knew that his original intent in the challenge hadn't been fair, either. So, in a way, that actually made them even.

In answer, Ciel lowered the sword and reached out to curl his fingers tight in the shirt over Alois' chest. He jerked the human boy closer to him, licking away the bead of sweat that lingered at the edge of the blonde's jaw before pressing his mouth possessively to the other's. Alois could taste salt in the kiss, as well as chained, elegantly restrained violence and smug competence. Almost against his will, Alois found himself sliding deep into desire and intrigue as he kissed back with just as much force, wanting to bruise Ciel's mouth with his own.

_You_, Ciel's voice came, ringing as clear as a bell through his mind. Alois shivered at the sensation of another's mind brushing against his own, and his lips parted so that he could deepen the kiss to see if Ciel's taste was anything like the feel of his mind. _I claim **you** as my prize._

As Ciel's fingers tightened in his shirt to draw Alois closer still, keeping him pressed as close as possible in a possessive, unrelenting hold, a thought came to the blonde as he stroked his tongue teasingly against the prince's and drew it into the warmth of his own mouth so that he might suck lewdly on it: Let the world fucking _burn_ to ashes. He had finally found the one thing that would be able to keep his interest, the one person who would understand his nature, not faulting him for it, and would be able to meet him step-for-step; because it was this boy who was his mirror and whose gaze could match Alois' own twisted one._  
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**End.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note:_ I started thinking about this story—which was originally only supposed to be a one-shot—and I realized that I could further expand upon it, especially since the issues that I want to explore are somewhat intricate. However, since I am exceedingly lazy, I have decided to tell alien-prince!Ciel and Prime-Minister's-son!Alois' story through a series of vignettes. This will be irregularly updated, will vary in length, and will probably timeskip back and forth. Regardless of all of the above, I hope that you enjoy this.

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The walls of the ship were black, polished so thoroughly that Alois could see his reflection in the gleaming surface. He scowled at it, annoyed at the fact that he had been brought here instead of winning the argument in making Ciel stay on Earth for the duration of the conferences, and smeared his fingers over the surface in a petty gesture.

But it was a gesture that made him feel better, and that was all that Alois cared about.

The blonde teen slowly made his way down the corridor, peeking into various rooms as he explored his new home. There were aliens in each and every place that he glanced into, all of them working quickly—as if they had a deadline that was fast approaching and were all determined to meet it. The thought was one that made Alois pause, head tilted to the side as a red-haired woman with piercing red-brown eyes strode on past him, her boots clicking determinedly upon the floor.

Everything was so different here, and Alois could at least admit to himself that he was feeling a bit out of sorts. He was someone who went out when frustrated, explored areas that no one really dared to venture into nowadays. The seediest parts of London were _his_, and it was a territory that he roamed several times a week. Here, though…

Everything was sterile.

There was no dirt, no grime, no evidence that anyone ever walked through these halls.

Perhaps that was why Alois continued on his way, still rubbing his fingers over the walls as he explored this particular part of the ship—wanting to leave behind smudges, wanted to leave behind evidence that, at least at one time, there _had_ been someone here. In a way, it was his proof of existence in this environment that strived specifically on competence and organization. Alois knew that he was far from a person of science—he liked physical activities, thrived on violence; he hated restraints and, as far as he was concerned, this entire ship was a restraint placed upon him.

The thought made him scowl and he glanced away in irritation, slamming the flat of his palm upon the wall to lash out at _something_.

"That isn't at all productive."

The scowl darkened dangerously at the chided tone, and Alois spun about on the heel of his boot to look the speaker up and down: tall, glasses, black hair, and eyes—like Ciel and Sebastian's—that glowed faintly in the muted lights of the hallway. Obviously someone from Cerberus, which meant that this was another person from Ciel's alien race. As Alois inspected the man, he pushed his glasses up his nose with a brief touch, and the blonde's annoyance flared higher. "Who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Claude Faustus. I am your liaison, the bridge between you and the rest of Prince Ciel's crew," the man answered readily, the chiding in his tone of voice easing out carefully to leave him rather monotone and expressionless.

Finally given someone to take his bad mood out on, Alois crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall so that he could continue inspecting the alien. "I don't need a liaison," the blonde answered, voice almost amiable—an exceptional warning sign for those that knew him. "I can manage well enough on my own. Besides, you look like a twat."

Claude's eyebrow slowly crept upwards. "…pardon?"

Alois took a moment to figure out how to translate that into something that the other would understand. The smirk, however, gave away just how much fun he was going to have with his answer. "A twat," came the eventual reply. "You know, like a prat? An airhead, a birdbrain, a bonehead, a chowderhead? A clot, a cuddie, a deadhead, a dim bulb, a dimwit, a dodo, a dolt, a dunce, a dunderhead, a gander, a golem, a half-wit, an ignoramus, an imbecile, a jackass, a know-nothing, a loggerhead, a loon, a nimrod, a nit, an oa—"

The blonde could tell that Claude was gritting his teeth by the time that the man lifted his hand to stop him from continuing. The fact that all of the synonyms were in alphabetical order was a point of pride for the Trancy. "Yes?" he asked when Claude didn't say anything, the boy's own tone so innocent that butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth.

"Your actions are rather Machiavellian in nature," the glasses-clad alien offered up in commentary when the urge to throttle the irritating blonde had passed; to think that the prince wanted to keep this human… it _was_ unthinkable.

"You mean the fact that I'd try to find as many ways to call you an idiot to ensure that you'd be annoyed enough with me to leave me the hell alone? Mmmhmm," Alois admitted, shrugging a shoulder. "It was either that or slap you to get you to leave, not that that particular choice wasn't all that appealing, you know—because you are really rather fucking condescending and it's no wonder that you're still nothing more than a stooge."

It was with a bright smile that Alois finally pushed past the alien to continue on with his poking around, leaving Claude rather taken aback by the human's incredible rudeness. "And now you see why Ciel likes him so much," a smug voice commented suddenly, startling the ship's steward since he had thought that he and the Trancy boy had originally been alone. When Claude glanced over his shoulder, he saw Sebastian leaning against the edge of a doorway; immediately, the glasses-clad alien's face smoothed into flat lines—no expression flickered across that careful face.

Continuing, Sebastian said, "He may be a vulgar little shit, but he speaks his mind, is violent, is able to keep up with the Prince, and won't let anything cow him into submission. He has spirit, and that appeals to Ciel."

"He needs to be _trained_," Claude snapped out viciously, watching Alois meander his way into one of the control rooms—a room that would have otherwise been forbidden to him except that Ciel had given the blonde full run of the ship so that he would leave the prince alone to poke and explore while Ciel finished perusing several diplomatic attempts to wiggle out from beneath his dominion.

"I wish you luck with that," Sebastian chuckled softly as he began to follow after Alois to fetch him so that he could ready the human for supper.

"If not trained, then he needs to be punished for his vulgarity and his insubordination," Claude growled to himself, eyes pulsing a dark red as he stared after the two: Sebastian with his easy, rolling gait and the charge that he had been asked to fetch for Ciel's now-attentive pleasure. Despite knowing that Claude's gaze was trained angrily at his back, Sebastian didn't bother to say anything aloud: he just continued after Alois, closing the distance between the both of them.

There was no point in responding to Claude's frustrated commentary and the suggestions offered through grinding and gritted teeth, after all: the prince's bodyguard doubted that Claude would have any luck with neither training _nor_ punishing Alois for his behavior. Alois' contrariness and pettiness would just make the behavior worsen in revenge and Alois would then purposefully go out of his way to be as difficult as possible. It had already happened to one of the servingmen who had tried to bring the boy a new set of clothes. Usually incredibly stoic (one had to be when in Ciel's employ), the man had actually left the room _weeping_ into his sleeve with a face covered in scratches. Needless to say, Alois had claws.

And, in a way, it was as if Ciel had picked up a pet cat.

For that reason alone, Sebastian could only approve.


End file.
